


Fearless

by MetisLeigh



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has a Tail, little bit of violence and blood but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-01-04 11:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21196664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetisLeigh/pseuds/MetisLeigh
Summary: To those who know him, Snufkin is fearless.  Calm and collected in the face of danger, always knowing what to do, he's not scared of anything.  Right?





	1. One Night

Snufkin was fearless.

At least that’s the opinion his friends held. He had nerves of steel, never flinching, never hesitating in the face of danger. He stared down witches, hobgoblins, skeleton kings, and evil imps with a calm demeanor and his hands in his pockets. He always had a plan, always one step ahead of his enemies, able to defeat even the most fearsome of foes through cunning and wit. He was an ally the denizens of Moomin Valley were happy to have on their side. 

Nothing scared him.

At least, that’s what Moomin thought.

Until one fateful night.

He and Snufkin were on a three-day trip to the far side of the valley to explore. The vagabond was taking the time to teach him his craft, going over his travel gear and explaining how to survive in the wild. To say Moomin was a little enthralled would be an understatement. Of course he’d known that surviving in the wilderness was no simple task, but he’d had no idea the lengths Snufkin had to take to simply stay alive out there. Finding and building shelter, securing a water source, dealing with predators and unexpected injuries – for a homebody troll the dangers seemed endless, but Snufkin spoke about each one so casually. 

It amazed him, further cementing Snufkin as a fearless force to be reckoned with in his mind. 

Then that night . . .

Moomin had woken up for no particular reason. Restlessness perhaps, as it had been a long time since he’d been camping, but he knew it was well into the night and still several hours until dawn. He shifted in his sleeping bag and tried to find a more comfortable position to drift back off to sleep in. 

Then he heard Snufkin mutter in his sleep as he stirred lightly. 

Moomin sat up, wondering if his friend was waking as well, but the mumrik was still deep in slumber. Strange, as Snufkin was usually a still and silent sleeper. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary though, and Moomin was about to lay down when he heard a moan and Snufkin curled up in on himself.

Now Moomin was a touched concerned. Was his friend ill or in pain?

He crawled over to get a better look. It was difficult to see in the dark but Snufkin was definitely shivering in his sleep, his breath quickening as he let out another moan.

Moomin turned on the lantern to get a better look.

Snufkin’s forehead was dotted with sweat but he did not appear to be flushed with fever. His soaked brow twitched, as did his fingers, and he began stirring restlessly.

A nightmare. It had to be, though the mere thought of Snufkin having one seemed inconceivable, here he was unmistakably trapped in his own mind.

“Snufkin, wake up!” Moomin called as he shook his shoulder.

His friend didn’t respond. Moomin called again, shaking harder. “Snufkin!”

He reacted this time, though not in a favorable way. As though the nightmare was tightening its grip, Snufkin began thrashing, face contorted in fear. His moans gave way to whimpers, a sound Moomin never though he’d hear his friend make, and the troll narrowly avoided being kicked as the mumrik tossed and turned violently. 

“Snufkin! Please wake up! You’re having a nightmare!”

But no matter how hard he shook or called, Snufkin was no closer to waking, rather it seemed that his attempts to rouse him from the dream only made it worse. Moomin was at a loss. He didn’t want his friend to suffer but there was nothing to do but let him ride the nightmare out. The troll resigned himself to his sleeping bag, turning away so he wouldn’t have to watch his friend thrash in fear and covering his ears to block out the pained whimpers.

Moomin didn’t even bother to stop the tears leaking from his eyes.

It may have only been a few more minutes, but it felt like hours when Snufkin finally bolted awake. From the corner of his eye Moomin could see him sitting up, panting and looking about the tent frantically. The mumrik placed a hand to his forehead, brushing back the sweat soaked bangs as his breathing began to slow. With a sigh of relief, Snufkin collapsed back onto his sleeping mat, hand still to his head and he closed his eyes. “A dream . . .” he breathed. “It was just a dream.”

Moomin wondered if he should say something, ask if he was okay, but he knew his friend liked his privacy and would probably prefer it if he pretended he slept through the whole thing. At least he was awake now and no longer at the mercy of whatever horrors haunted his dreams.

And he certainly seemed okay, because it was only moments later when Moomin heard light snoring from behind him. 

He wiped the tears from his face and breathed his own sigh of relief. The ordeal was over and aside from being badly shaken up the two were no worse for wear. Lulled by the sound of his friend resting, Moomin was on the verge of sleep himself when he noticed that the lantern was still on. 

Snufkin must’ve been really out of it to not notice. 

No matter. Moomin sat up and quietly leaned over to turn it back off. 

“Thank you, Moomin.”

The troll was startled by the sudden yet sleepy mutter, but as he looked over, Snufkin appeared to still be asleep. He watched for a moment, expecting the mumrik to open an eye, but instead he shifted comfortably against his sleeping bag and sank further into slumber. Feeling his own bag call to him, Moomin shrugged it off, and soon he fell asleep as well.

No more nightmares plagued them that night.

But dark dreams don’t give up that easily and are prone to strike whenever they please without warning.


	2. Better with Breakfast

When Moomin woke up the next morning, Snufkin was already up and about, packing and getting ready for the next leg of their journey. The empty sleeping bag was rolled up and the crackling of a camp fire could be heard from just outside the tent. Moomin stretched and rose, drawn by the allure of a savory aroma. 

Crawling out of the tent, the troll quickly recognized the smell of mushroom soup and fresh fish. 

_Very_ fresh fish, as some of them were still squirming on Snufkin’s line, not at all looking forward to their turn to be gutted and cleaned. 

Snufkin himself was sitting on a log, cutting board in his lap and knife in hand, making quick work of the trout he caught just before dawn. He glanced up from his work for a brief moment before returning to the fish he was deboning. “Mornin’, Moomin.”

“Good morning, Snufkin.” Moomin replied, stretching to his full height. “Do you want some help?” 

“Can you start taking down the tent and pack up? I want to get moving as soon as we’ve finished breakfast.”

With a nod, Moomin got to work taking their campsite down. The troll was no stranger to camping and roughing it, but watching Snufkin camp made him feel like he’d never slept outside before. The vagabond could easily setup a campsite in less than half the time it took anyone else in Moomin Valley and the integrity of his work didn’t suffer at his speed. His tent never faltered or swayed and his fires were quick to start yet always under control.

Efficiency came with living the life, Moomin supposed, and he got a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach just then.

Was this why Snufkin didn’t want Moomin to come with him in the winter? He would just slow him down. He’d be nothing more than a burden. A nuisance.

“Is something the matter?”

Moomin jumped at the sudden question. He whipped around at Snufkin, whose eyes remained locked on the cutting board as he started on the last fish. “You’re sighing.”

“I am?”

“You are.” 

“Well, it’s just that . . .” Moomin was saved from floundering for an excuse when Snufkin let out a huge yawn. “Are you tired?”

“You’re deflecting.” Snufkin replied, eyes fluttering as he attempted to blink out the sleepiness.

Moomin huffed. “So are you.”

“Touché.” Snufkin chuckled. “All right, I’ll admit I didn’t really sleep well last night.” He raised his knife, bringing it down on the fish’s head with a loud chop. “And before you ask,” With a flick of his wrist he sliced open its belly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Wh-what do you . . ?”

“You think I didn’t notice that the lantern was on when I woke up?” He scraped out the guts, flicking it off the edge of his knife and into a bucket. “And for the record, you’re terrible at pretending to be asleep.”

Moomin blushed so fiercely even his fur couldn’t hide it.

“But,” Snufkin stopped working and looked up at Moomin. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Oh, of course!” Moomin snapped out of his embarrassment. “You’re welcome.” 

“Do me a favor, then?”

“Hm?” 

“Stop comparing yourself to me.” 

Moomin only tilted his head at that. Snufkin began skewering the fish he’d filleted, briefly glancing at his friend as he worked. “I noticed you trying to take the tent down too fast, then having to force yourself to slow down to make sure you did it right.” 

His skewers finished, he brought them to the fire to begin roasting. “You were tensing and grumbling under your breath. Just focus on doing it the right way and you’ll get faster at it naturally.”

All of a sudden, Moomin remembered that he was supposed to be working and quickly got right back to it. Not too quickly, though.

By the time he was finished their breakfast was ready and, if the rumbling of their stomachs was anything to go by, they were both properly hungry.

And that was that. No further mention of Snufkin’s nightmare and no other bad dreams plagued them on their journey.

Moomin respected Snufkin’s wish to not discuss it, but he couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve scared him so badly. What horror would leave the iron-willed Snufkin drenched in sweat and trembling in fear? Did he even want to find out?

Want to or not, he was about to, sooner than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote this chapter a few times. And by a few I mean five. That's why I am a slug.


	3. Descent

The excursion had gone well and Moomin had a new territory of the valley he could add to his map. It was a place of lush forest and fresh streams, lively pools for fishing, sturdy caves for taking shelter and a waterfall that could be walked behind. 

The valley was so much bigger than he had thought and it made him yearn to explore the world beyond its borders. He understood Snufkin’s need to travel and see all the world had to offer. He would do it too, someday. He would forgo the ritual of hibernation and set off to the south, meet new people and places, face untold dangers, and he would write down everything. He’d release an epic memoire that would make his father proud. 

One day . . .

But that day would not be today, because the troll was stuck inside, watching sheets of frigid water slide down the windows. 

For the fifth day in a row Moomin was trapped indoors, his tail thrashing in annoyance behind him as he was starting to go stir crazy. His books had all been read cover to cover and he’d run out of decent sketching paper. There was truly nothing to do but glare at the offending clouds in hopes of scaring them away.

They were not impressed.

The rain refused to let up, ebbing only slightly to a moderate shower when it felt like teasing the valley’s denizens into thinking the storm was ending. It was by some miracle they hadn’t all been washed away in a flood, but this wasn’t doing Moominmamma’s garden any favors.

Moomin huffed and rested his chin on his folded arms, snout pressed against the cold window. Through the rain and darkness he could make out Snufkin’s tent. It stood up to the unyielding winds, a true testament to the vagabond’s handiwork, but how was it hold up against the cold? Snufkin had taught him the importance of insulating one’s shelter for just such situations. He knew his friend had survived worse but it didn’t stop the tightness forming in his chest.

He hadn’t seen Snufkin in over a week. Not that he expected him to be leaving his tent in this weather, but it would be nice to actually _see_ him and know he was okay. The only way he even knew his friend was in the tent was due to the occasional glow of the lantern inside. Usually during calm nights he could see the campfire as he prepared his supper.

Moomin shot up with a gasp.

When was the last time Snufkin had eaten?

In this weather it was impossible to cook or fish. He couldn’t forage either and he had mentioned that his non-perishable food supply was running out after they’d returned from their trip. 

Had Snufkin been stuck in his tent with nothing to eat for the last five days?

That was it. Moomin was going to check on him. He was going to ask Momma to cook up a hot soup for him to take over. Even if Snufkin did have enough trail rations to get by, he needed something warm in his belly to help combat the cold. He left his room with conviction, mentally preparing himself to not back down when the vagabond inevitably insisted he was fine. 

He knew Snufkin could, and had, survived worse, but in Moomin Valley he shouldn’t have to endure. 

\-----

Moominmamma apparently had the same idea, as she had already prepared a hearty soup for dinner, making the batch big enough for seconds and extra guests. She poured a generous serving into a soup tureen as Moomin put on a water proof poncho and hat. They were both a little too big for him but they’d do the trick.

“Please be careful, dear.” She said as she handed the dish to him. “I know it’s only just over the bridge but these winds are quite fierce.”

“I will, Mamma.”

“Do try to convince him to spend the night here if you can. We all know he can take care of himself, but being out in this weather for so long worries me.”

“You’re not the only one.” Moomin tugged on the draw string of his hat, making sure it was snug. “Maybe if you make his favorite tea it can help me convince him to come over.”

Moominmamma nodded, nuzzling her son before turning towards the kitchen. 

And with that, Moomin cradled the hot tureen to his chest and braced himself for the winds outside.

\-----

Mamma had not been exaggerating.

The winds were fierce indeed and had he been a smaller creature Moomin was certain he would’ve been knocked off his feet. Little My would’ve been long gone, taken to who knows where had she been out there with him.

He braced himself and pushed back against the wind, careful to not lose his footing on the wet bridge as he crossed and approached the tent. He could see Snufkin’s silhouette outlined by a lantern inside. The mumrik was cocooning himself in a fluffy blanket, no doubt bracing himself for another frigid night.

_Not if I can help it!_ Moomin thought, crouching outside the tent and determined to not leave without his friend.

“Snufkin!” Moomin yelled. He heard rustling inside and saw the silhouette crawl towards the entrance before the zipper was yanked up. Snufkin lifted the flap and poked his head out. “Moomin? What are you . . .?” He was cut off by a sudden strike of lightning and ominous rumbling from the sky. “Get inside, quickly!”

Moomin quickly obliged and zipped the flap back up behind him. He fought the urge to shake the water off, feeling bad enough about it dripping onto the tent’s floor. “Sorry about this.” 

“Mm, it can’t really be avoided. It’ll be all right.” Snufkin replied, settling back down and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. “But what in the world are you doing out here?”

“Checking on you, of course.” Moomin said. “It’s been awfully cold these past few nights and I know you haven’t been able to make a fire to keep yourself warm.” He placed the tureen on the center of the tent’s floor. “Mamma made you some soup. We thought you could use a hot meal.”

Snufkin smiled, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes. These moomins were such worry warts, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed or offended at their fussing. It felt nice to have someone actually care about his health and well-being. “It’s very kind of you all, but you didn’t need to go through the trouble. I’m fine.”

It was Moomin’s turn to roll his eyes, but he didn’t bother stopping himself from actually doing it. “Of course we didn’t _have_ to! And we know you can take care of yourself, but it’s awful to be in this weather without a hot bowl of soup and somewhere warm and dry to sleep, isn’t it?” 

“It’s really not so bad, but I’m certainly not going to let Moominmamma’s cooking go to waste.” Snufkin replied. He brought the tureen closer, taking off the lid and inhaling the wonderful aroma. He sighed. “This smells amazing, as usual.”

Moomin smiled as Snufkin began rummaging through his bag for his bowls and cutlery. “She’s making your favorite tea back at the house. We were hoping you would come spend the night with us.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.” The mumrik replied, pulling out two bowls and a pair of spoons. “I have a feeling the storm will only last another day or so. No need for me to take up space.”

“Well, there’s no need for you to wait it out in your tent, either.” Moomin countered. “Besides, if it’s only two nights it won’t be any trouble at all.”

Snufkin only hummed in response, ladling out a serving of the soup into a bowl and handing it to Moomin. 

“She _is_ making your favorite tea. It’d be a shame for that to go to waste.”

This time Snufkin laughed as he served himself. “You are really twisting my arm on this, aren’t you? Honestly, trying to guilt trip me. That’s just cruel!”

“Well, you don’t want her efforts to be for nothing, do you?” Moomin pressed.

“No, I supposed I don’t.” Snufkin sighed as he stirred his soup, but he was grinning in spite of himself. “Knowing her, she’s already prepared the guest room for me as well. Oh dear, it appears I can’t refuse, can I?”

“Oh good!” Moomin sighed in relief. “I really thought I was gonna have to fight you on this.”

“Well it was hardly a fair fight. The moment you brought your mother into this there was no way I could win.”

Moomin grinned. “Guess I’ll have to bring her up in all our arguments from now on, huh?”

Snufkin glared, but his mouth twitched. “You’re a dirty fighter, Moomin.”

The two shared a laugh before tucking into their meal. The soup was as good as the smell promised it would be, vegetables and spices dancing on their tongues and warming them from the inside out. They ate in comfortable silence, save for the constant drumming of rain on the canvas. Moomin helped himself to seconds while Snufkin appeared satisfied on his first serving, leaning back and rubbing his belly contently.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a while.” He sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever meet a better cook than Moominmamma.”

Moomin nodded in agreement, quickly drinking the rest of his broth as Snufkin began packing up. The rain was steadily getting heavier and they had to move quickly if they wanted to get to the house before it really started pouring. With his packing done, Snufkin threw his bag over his shoulders and grabbed the lantern, bracing himself for the storm. Moomin did the same, grabbing the tureen and unzipping the front of the tent.

A chilly blast of wind hit the both of them and they shivered despite their warm meal. Snufkin gripped his hat tightly and zipped the tent back up behind them. His clothes were already getting soaked and he’d barely just stepped outside. He was starting to think he was better off just staying in his tent when lightning cracked across the sky and the storm roared overhead. 

“The storm’s getting worse!” Moomin yelled. “Let’s hurry!”

They sprinted towards the house, taking care while going over the bridge as the wind seemed particularly determined to knock them into the river. By the time they reached the veranda Snufkin was soaked to the bone, his tail weighed down and drooping behind him. He placed the lantern on the table and slipped his bag off, both he and Moomin shaking the excess water out of their fur and hair. Snufkin ran his hand down his tail to squeeze the water from his fur while Moomin flicked the water off his poncho. 

The door opened, bathing the two with light as Moominmamma ushered them inside. “Don’t worry about tracking water inside. Get in, quickly!” They did so, grabbing their things as they went and practically collapsing in front of the roaring fireplace. Safe from the storm, the two boys hugged their knees and wrapped their tails around themselves as they tried to get warm. 

Moominmamma began her fussing, wrapping a towel around Snufkin and helping Moomin remove his rain gear. “Are you boys all right? You were out there for so long I was starting to worry.”

“Sorry, Momma. We were having supper and I lost track of the time.”

“Oh, it’s all right. What matters is you’re both safe now.” She removed Moomin’s (well it was really his father’s) hat and nuzzled him, moving on to Snufkin who was currently drying his hair with the towel. “Dear, we’ll need to get you out of that smock before you-” 

She trailed off as her snout came into contact with Snufkin’s temple. She quickly pressed her paw to his forehead, her own brow furrowing as she felt the heat radiating from it. “Oh Snufkin, you have a bit of a fever.”

“I do?” He placed his own hand to his head. “I feel fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Moominmamma took his face in both paws. “In fact, you look awfully pale, dear.”

Moomin tilted his head and leaned over to get a better look. He hadn’t noticed in the poorly lit tent, but his mother was right. Snufkin was very pale.

“I feel fine.” Snufkin repeated, but quickly stopped his protest. For all the dangers he faced and enemies he’d defeated, even he backed down when Moominmamma gave him that look.

“Straight to bed with you. You’ll find a clean set of pajamas for you on the guest bed.” She wrapped the towel tightly around his shoulders, helping him to his feet and ushering him up the steps. For the second time that night Snufkin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. All this fussing and fretting – but it was a moomin’s nature, he supposed, and far be it from him to expect a creature to go against it.

As predicted, the Moominparents had prepared the guest room for him and a clean set of sleepwear was folded on the bed. As Snufkin held them up and let them unfold by themselves, he found they truly were just for him. They were tailor made for his shape, no doubt by Moominmamma herself, but also old and worn and made from scraps of garments that had been properly broken in. Though they were indeed clean, they were not _too_ clean, and held a faint smell of soil after a spring rain.

He smiled. Perhaps all this fussing wasn’t so bad after all.

“Just put your clothes on the chair and get changed. I’ll bring you some tea a little later.” 

She left to give him privacy and he changed. There was a knock on the door just as he finished pulling the pajama top over his head. “Come in.”

He was expecting Moominmamma with his tea, but wasn’t unsurprised to see Moomin enter instead. “How are you feeling, Snufkin?” 

“Fine, really.” He said. “But if your mother says I have a fever, it must be true. She’s not one to lie.” He brushed his fingers through his bangs and rested his hand against his forehead. “I suppose I _was_ feeling a bit woozy today, but I figured that was because I hadn’t eaten in a while.”

Moomin held back the urge to ask just how long “a while” was to Snufkin. 

“It sure was nice of her to make me these pajamas, though, wasn’t it?” Snufkin said, as he looked over his shoulder. “She even remembered the hole for my tail.”

“I’m glad you like them, dear.” The boys turned towards the door to see Moominmamma enter, tea in paws. “Now into bed. We don’t want that fever to get any worse.”

Snufkin got into bed, settling in as she handed him the tea. He hummed as he took in the aroma and the warmth from the cup radiated through his hands. He hadn’t realized how cold his fingers were until they felt like they were thawing. That feeling spread to the rest of his body as he drank though he had a suspicion that the warmth in his chest was in part due to Moominmamma fluffing the pillow behind him. He lowered his cup, smiling. “Moominmamma . . .”

She placed a paw on his head, gently stroking his hair, and Snufkin found himself leaning into the touch. It wasn’t often that either Moominparent gave him such affection, but when they did Snufkin found he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

The serenity was cut short by a violent flash of lightning and subsequent roar of thunder. All three of them started as the window shook from the force. “Oh dear! What a dreadful storm!” Moominmamma exclaimed, nuzzling the mumrik. “I’m so glad you’re safe inside with us.”

“This does seem like one my tent wouldn’t be able to stand up to.” He replied. “I’ll be surprised if it’s still standing in the morning.” 

“What do you do in storms like this when you’re travelling, Snufkin?” Moomin asked.

“Much if it depends on the kind of storm and what specific dangers it presents, but generally I use the terrain to my advantage.” He looked towards the window. “For a storm like this, a cave on the high ground would be ideal. If I can’t find that, a strong tree in the thick of the forest would be the next thing I’d look for.”

“But what about the lightning?”

“A flood would be a more pressing danger. That and freezing. Being in a tree gets you off the ground and the leaves can be used for insulation.”

“All right, you two, you can continue this discussion over breakfast.” Moominmamma cut in. “Snufkin needs to rest and you, Moomin, need to get back downstairs by the fire to warm up. Your fur still hasn’t dried out yet.” 

A shiver overtook the troll at that. Even with the rain gear he’d still been properly soaked. “Okay, Momma. Goodnight, Snufkin.” 

“Goodnight, Moomin.” Snufkin finished his tea as his friend turned to leave, handing the cup back to Moominmamma and sinking into the soft mattress. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in a bed. 

“Sleep well, dear. Perhaps the storm will die down soon.” 

“Perhaps. Goodnight, Moominmamma.” He received one last nuzzle from her snout before she left and he sighed contently, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head while the storm raged on. The discomforts of living outside came hand in hand with his vagabond lifestyle, but he’d have it no other way and would trade them for nothing. 

Though, on a night like this, he couldn’t be blamed for dipping into the luxury of indoor living. 

He closed his eyes, knowing sleep would not come easy but hoping it would claim him soon enough. He had a feeling this night would not be a restful one, in spite of the soft bed he was in, and he’d have quite the mess to clean up in the morning.

\-----

The storm did not let up as the night went on. 

If anything, it only grew fiercer, the sky splitting with each lightning strike and the following roars of thunder shaking every home in the valley to its foundation. An eerie howl of wind accompanied the constant battering of rain against the roof and windows. 

Moomin was so relieved that Snufkin was safe indoors tonight. There was no way he would’ve been able to sleep if he hadn’t been. As it was sleep was not coming easy for anyone. The storm was too loud and the shaking of the house was too unsettling. Yet, exhaustion won out and eventually everyone drifted off into sleep deep enough that not even the thunder could rouse them.

The same could not be said for the scream that tore through the house.

Moomin was awake in an instant, and so was everyone else from the sound of it, as he heard doors slamming open and footsteps racing in the hallway below. He jumped out of bed and rushed out to join the commotion as another blood curdling screech shook the house. He gasped, realizing he recognized the voice and could hear which room it was coming from.

“Snufkin!”

By the time Moomin had arrived in the guest room, his mother was already at the bedside, desperately trying to rouse the trashing mumrik. His blanket had been completely kicked off and the mattress had been clawed up.

“Snufkin, wake up!” She shook his shoulders but the wild flailing continued and Moomin was getting a sick sense of déjà vu as he watched. Much like last time, the attempts to wake him only seemed to make things worse. He tossed his head against the pillow so roughly that droplets of sweat were being flicked from his soaked bangs. His feet desperately kicked against the mattress, as though he were trying to squirm out of Moominmamma’s grasp and Little My, who had been perched on the foot of the bed, nearly got kicked in the face. 

They all winced as Snufkin let out another piercing scream. 

Moominmamma’s ears laid flat against her head as she tried again to wake him, stopping when Moomin gently put a paw on her arm. She looked over at her son and her heart threatened to break upon meeting his eyes. Seeing the boy she considered her second son trapped in unyielding terror had already been sitting heavily on her chest, but to see her little Moomin’s eyes threaten to spill tears was almost too much. She placed her paw over his and squeezed it, and Moomin leaned into her and pressed his face into her shoulder.

She thought she may start crying herself when she felt her fur start to get damp from his tears.

She rubbed her son’s back and glanced around the room. Little My was perched at the far corner of the bed, her feet tucked in and eyes wide. Moominpappa was standing near the foot of the bed, arms crossed and shoulders slumped as he watched Snufkin thrash wildly. “There’s gotta be someway we can wake him up.” 

“I could bite his tail.” Little My said.

Moomin lifted his face from his mother’s shoulder and whipped around. “How’s that going to help?”

“Well look at him!” she jumped up. “We can’t just leave him like this!”

“Trying to wake him up only makes it worse and waking up with a sore tail isn’t going to make things any better!”

“So what? We just let him-” 

Everyone jumped when Snufkin suddenly bolted upright with a shout, back peddling until he hit the wall. He pressed his back into it, panting as his eyes darted around the room. Any relief they would’ve felt at him being awake was dampened by how terrified he still looked despite finally escaping his nightmare. No one said anything at first, thinking perhaps he just needed a minute to process that he’d just had a terrible dream, but his chest continued to heave, his tail remained poofed up and spiky as it whipped around, and his dilated eyes did not stop their frantic scanning for even a moment.

Moominmamma gently cleared her throat and began approaching him cautiously so as not to startle him. “Snufkin? It’s all right, dear.” She called out softly. “You’re okay. You just had a nightmare.”

Snufkin paid her no mind, his eyes finally stopping as they focused in on something behind them all. 

He stared at it.

Everyone turned to see what he was looking at. 

It was the opposite corner of the room. Nothing there but a bare wall and nearly empty shelf. Of course, they only knew that from memory as currently that section of the room was completely shrouded in darkness. There was nothing there, but even if there was it couldn’t be seen. It was just shadows. Nothing more.

And yet, Snufkin continued to stare, his labored panting only growing heavier with each passing second.

“Snufkin! What are you looking at?” Little My stood up, glancing between the corner and the mumrik. “There’s nothing there!”

Snufkin didn’t reply, instead pressing himself as far as he could into the corner, curling up and wrapping his tail around himself. 

“Snufkin, it’s okay.” Moominmamma said, resuming her slow approach. “Whatever you see isn’t real. You just had a bad dream, that’s all, and you’re safe now.” She carefully reached a paw out, stopping for a moment when he flinched, and gently placed it on his head. He didn’t seem to mind, barely acknowledging it as his focus was fully on whatever was lurking in the shadows. 

Moominmamma frowned at the heat she felt against her paw. “He’s burning up. Moominpapa, will you get a bowl of cold water and wash cloth, please?”

“Of course, dear.” Moominpapa turned to leave, his paw barely grazing the door knob when –

“DON’T!!!”

Everyone was nearly startled out of their skin at the sudden shout. They all whipped around to Snufkin, whose gaze was finally turned away from the corner and now directed at Moominpapa. “Don’t leave!”

“Why on earth not, my boy?” 

Snufkin shivered, curling up even further on himself as he muttered. 

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” Moominmama asked.

He murmured again.

“You need to speak up! We can’t hear you!” Little My exclaimed, earning a stern look from both Moomin and his mother. She was right, though. No one had made out what he was saying and they all leaned in a bit, mindful to give him his space.

“Please, dear, tell us again.” Moominmama said. “What’s the matter?”

Snufkin slowly turned to look at her. 

There weren’t many times in her life that she felt genuinely terrified, but the moment his eyes met with hers, a bolt of fear ripped through her chest. No one had seen Snufkin truly scared before. Nervous and uneasy, perhaps, but never _scared_. Even when they were facing the possible end of the world as an ominous comet lingered in the sky, he endured it with a brave face that gave those around him courage. The fact that he was scared now would’ve been unnerving on its own.

But the haunted look in his eyes was unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

Moomin saw it too and, with the way it made his heart freeze, he felt like he was looking into the eyes of the Lady of the Cold.

Then Snufkin whispered, his voice soft and small, but still able to plunge the room into a thick fog of dread.

“He’s here.”


	4. Marked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I had to re-write this chapter I don't know how many times. I hated every single draft. Finally, I am satisfied, and I hope it was worth the wait. 
> 
> I am also still working on Duke and Duchess, but I'm having a similar problem on chapter two, so it may be a while before that's updated. Just know that I haven't abandoned my stories, I'm just a slug when it comes to writing and as picky as Gordon Ramsey is about risotto.

The storm had finally let up by morning. Spares clouds still lingered in the sky, occasionally sprinkling what remained of the rain, but the sun shone through them and veiled the valley in gold and rainbows. The sight was nothing short of magical. 

However, in Moominhouse, the storm may as well have not let up at all.

Moominmamma rung out a wash cloth in her paws and laid it across Snufkin’s forehead. He was panting in his deep, restless sleep, his flushed cheeks contrasting with the rest of his pale face. Occasionally he stirred, mumbling incoherently, but didn’t wake. Curled up beside him, Little My was in a similar state, shuddering as she slumbered with tear streaks staining her face.

It was enough to make a mother’s heart clench. 

She nuzzled each of them, hoping that her loving touch would reach them in the depths of their nightmares and give them at least a little bit of comfort. She frowned at the heat that radiated against her snout from Snufkin’s face. This fever was going to need ice packs and grandma’s best medicine if it were to yield. 

Moominmamma sighed, unable to stop herself from yawning. No one else had gotten more than an hour of sleep last night. In the eerie quite of the house she could hear Moominpappa’s foot steps on the ground floor, marching about in agitation, no doubt with his rifle held at the ready in his paws. As she left the guest room to prepare tea and medicine, she paused at the doorway, looking down at her son who sat propped up against the wall.

Moomin’s knees were drawn to his chest, his tail pounding the floor in frustration, and Snufkin’s dagger held loosely in his paws. He looked up at his mother, eyes drooping in exhaustion but unable to fully rest. The two shared a somber nod as Mamma descended the stairs. Moomin looked back at the dagger he held, sighing at his sorry sight in the blade’s reflection. Against his will the events of the night replayed in his mind, tormenting him with the thought that he could’ve prevented the outcome in spite of knowing otherwise.

If only they’d known better. 

But they didn’t. 

\-----

“He’s here.” 

As soft and light as the whisper had been, its mere utterance had weighed uncomfortably heavy on those that heard it. It ushered in an uneasy quiet, everyone unable to muster anything more than a glance at one another. Even the storm outside let up as if the clouds themselves recoiled. 

Moominpappa, propelled more by instinct than anything else, moved to his wife and son, wrapping an arm around each one and huddling them closely to him. The two leaned into his touch and allowed themselves to be enveloped by his protection. 

Moominmamma, eased by her husband, was the first to find her voice.

“Who’s here?”

Snufkin looked down, pressing his trembling lips together as he swallowed. He curled up in on himself even tighter. 

She waited, endlessly patient, but when he opened his mouth again only shuddered breathing came out. He glanced at her and for a moment it looked as though he were about to speak, but he flinched at something unseen and buried his face in his knees.

Lightning cracked outside of the window and, if Moomin had been paying more attention, he may have seen a figure illuminated just in the corner of his vision. 

It was very lucky for him that he hadn’t been.

Instead, he slowly crawled onto the edge of the bed, mindful to give Snufkin his space, and reached a cautious paw out for his friend. “Snufkin, please talk to us.” He said. “We want to help you.”

“. . . I know.” Came a muffled reply. For several seconds it seemed that would be the only response he’d give, but he stirred, slowly moving his head to peak out at them. “But, I d-”

Snufkin bolted upright, the sudden movement giving everyone a startled jump, and before they could blink, he had lunged for Little My, grabbed her securely and pressing her face to his chest. She was obviously not too happy about that and began flailing wildly to escape, but his hold kept her shouting muffled as he curled himself around her tightly. 

He looked at the Moomin family, his eyes as wide and round as grandma’s tea saucers, as they stared back in kind, confused by his actions. 

“Don’t turn around!” he yelled, desperation like nothing they had heard dripping from his voice. “Whatever you do! Don’t. Turn. Around!”

When being told so explicitly _not_ to do something, there was always a small temptation to do it anyway. However, with the warning came an aura that seemed to cascade over the moomins, bringing with it a chill that disregarded their thick fur and shuddered them to the bone. Moominpappa could nearly feel a presence press itself into his back and were this any other night, any other circumstances, he would’ve whipped around with no hesitation to face the intruder that dared invade his home and threaten his family. 

Every fiber of his being commanded him to do just that, but Snufkin had warned him, and if there was one thing he’d learned over the few years of knowing the boy it was that he was well traveled and wise beyond his years. He’d earned the elder’s respect a long time ago, enough that he would disregard his instincts to obey. So instead, he moved closer to his family, hugging his wife and son tighter in his protective arms.

As for Moomin, he finally noticed the flicker of movement just on the corner of his vision. Despite his friend’s warnings, he found his head slowly turning on its own, only to quickly have his head yanked back by a pull of his ear. He yelped in response but settled into quiet upon meeting Snufkin’s gaze. The mumrik wordlessly shook his head, refusing to let go of his ear even as his other paw struggled to keep Little My’s face pressed into his chest. 

For several minutes they stood like statues, breath shuddering, as the temptation to turn around pulled at them. Finally, the presence from behind dispersed like mist, making them all feel as though they were outside in the frigid rain. 

Snufkin let go of Little My and Moomin’s ear and sunk onto the bed in relief. The others relaxed as well, though the tension in the room was still palpable. Little My shook her head, ruffled at having been grabbed, but only scowled at the mumrik who was sprawled on the mattress. It seemed safe to look around, even behind them, still . . . 

“Is – is he gone?”

Snufkin tensed at that and propped himself up on his elbows. “He’s not in the room anymore, but he’s still here, and we’re still not safe.”

“You haven’t even told us who _he_ is!” Little My exclaimed. 

Snufkin fell silent, looking down as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He scooted to the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his knees as he sighed. “It was years ago. I was still very small.” Snufkin retreated into silence. His fist shook as he brushed his bangs back with his other paw. “I’m sorry, this isn’t easy for me to talk about.”

“It’s all right, dear.” Moominmamma placed a comforting paw on his shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”

He glanced at her gratefully before returning his gaze to the floor. He spent a good few minutes clenching and uncurling his fingers before he found his voice again. He closed his eyes as he continued. “I was still learning how to survive on my own and to be honest, I wasn’t very good at it. I was very tired and hungry when I came across . . .”

He winced, clenching his eyes tighter and gritting his teeth. His head fell forward, hiding his face as his shoulders began to shake. 

Moominmamma rubbed his back soothingly but his quaking body didn’t relent.

Instead, he curled in further on himself, hands clenched against the sides of his head and tail whipping about behind him. He clutched his head tighter and it was only when she saw a trickle of blood run down his chin did Moominmamma realize he was biting his lip.  
“Snufkin, dear! You’re bleeding!”

She reached to gently lift his chin up, only to pull back when he screamed in response.

Snufkin flailed and kicked, back peddling himself onto the bed from an unseen horror. “No! N-no!” He covered his ears and clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out . . . something, but to everyone else there was nothing to be seen or heard. Not even the aura from earlier.

“What is it?! Is he back?!” Moomin asked, desperate to get through to his friend.

Snufkin only shook his head in response. He whimpered, hunching his shoulders as though scalded. “I’m sorry! I tried to save you! I didn’t mean for it to happen!”

“S-save me? From what? Didn’t mean for what to happen?”

The only answer he received was more whimpering and panting, unintelligible whispers, and choked sobs from his friend. 

“Snufkin?”

“No, I didn’t!” the mumrik yelled, squeezing his eyes even tighter. “I would never do that! I swear!”

“Snufkin?”

“Moomin.” 

He looked over at his mother, taken back by her even tone. She looked back, uneasy. “I don’t think he’s talking to any of us.”

There was an unsettling quiet, broken only by his shuddering.

“I came back! I came back for you! I know I was too late, but . . .” he reared back, kicking at the sheets. “No! That’s not true! S-stop it!” He lay on his side, curling up and tucking his head in his arms, tail wrapping around himself.

“Snufkin, dear, please come back to us.” Moominmamma called out gently. She reached a tentative paw out and stroked his hair soothingly. “You’re safe with us. There’s no one else here.”

He only whimpered in response, mumbling incoherent pleas to the unseen entity that tormented him. Moomin remembered what his mother had said earlier. Snufkin was burning up. These hysterics were brought on by the fever. He needed a cold wash cloth, tea, medicine, _something_ to bring it down.

There was a shiver that ran down his spine as he remembered the cold aura from before, the unsettling feeling of a presence, and his friend’s desperate expression. 

He had felt it. Seen _something_ in the corner of his eye. 

Hadn’t he?

He continued to watch is friend writhe. His parents couldn’t get through to him.

That frigid mist from before could’ve been a gust seeping in through the cracks in the wall. The figure he thought he’d seen could’ve been his mind playing tricks on him, much like Snufkin’s feverish mind was doing to him now.

He took notice of the blood from his bit lip staining the mattress. 

Whatever he’d thought he felt or saw wasn’t real. Whatever Snufkin thought he was seeing or hearing wasn’t real.

His suffering, however, was and Moomin wouldn’t let it stand.

He swallowed the small prick of doubt and stowed it away. 

Snufkin needed help and he needed it now.

“Mamma, I’m going to get the cold water for you.”

“No Moomin!” Snufkin snapped, broken out of his trance. He sat up, staring at his friend with wide eyes. “Don’t leave this room!”

“I’m sorry, Snufkin, but I have to.” 

He turned to leave, ignoring his friend’s cries for him to stay. However, he couldn’t ignore being tackled and pinned to the floor by a frantic mumrik. The Moominparents gasped as they watched the boys grapple about, Moomin easily pushing the weaker mumrik off of him, but said mumrik was not about to go down without a fight. Snufkin threw his arms around Moomin’s legs, causing him to trip hard on his snout. Moomin barely had time to cry out in pain when he felt his arms being pulled behind his back.

“If you leave this room, you’ll die!” Snufkin shouted. “He’s out there! He’s in the house and he’ll _kill_ you!”

“There is no ‘he’, Snufkin!” Moomin fired back. “Your fever’s made you delirious! You need to let us help you!”

Snufkin felt a pair of large paws grasp his waist and pull him off Moomin. 

“That’s enough, my boy. You need to rest.” 

He thrashed in Moominpappa’s hold. “No! Let me go!” His heart raced as he watched Moomin stand up. “Moomin! Please! Don’t leave this room!”

Moomin looked back. There was a hint of sorrow in his eyes before they hardened into a look of determination. “You’ll thank us when you’re better.”

With that, Moomin walked towards the door, and for Snufkin it seemed as though time slowed down. He was watching his best friend march to his death, completely oblivious of the danger. 

He screamed. 

He flailed. 

He writhed in Moominpappa’s arms.

But no one was stopping him. No one was listening. 

His friend was going to die and he was helpless to stop it.

He looked over to the bed, panting. 

He looked back at Moomin, and grit his teeth.

No! He wouldn’t let it happen this way!

He was going to stop this, one way or another.

Snufkin unsheathed his claws and dug them deep into Moominpappa’s arm. 

The elder yelped and let go. Snufkin crumpled to the floor but picked himself up in less than a blink. By this time, Moomin had stopped and turned, gasping at the red staining his father’s fur. They barely registered Snufkin grabbing something out of his travel pack before he launched himself towards the door.

There was a loud bang as the mumrik threw his body against it, slamming it shut and pressing his back into it as far as he could.

Moomin flinched at the sound and growled under his breath, but kept his attention on his father as he and his mother observed the wound. Moominmamma quickly wrapped her apron around her husband’s arm to stem the bleeding. He hissed, muttering a curse of “Feral brat!” under his breath. 

Moomin mumbled a curse of this own as he whipped around, his anger quickly dissipating when he noticed the dagger in Snufkin’s paws.

He froze in shock. He heard his parents hush behind him as they too noticed the armed mumrik standing between them and the exit. 

Snufkin himself was hardly an imposing sight. Small and skinny as always, his legs shook beneath him and his sweat soaked shirt clung to his body. But between the glint of the dagger in his hands and his wild eyes frantically glancing between them and the bed, no one was willing to get any closer.

“I’m sorry,” Snufkin whispered. “Please understand, I’m trying to keep you safe.”

His gaze was drawn back to the bed. He stared at the pillows, lip trembling, wincing and recoiling at nothing. 

Moomin took the distraction as a chance to step forward.

In a heartbeat, Snufkin’s focus was back on the Moomins, eyes narrowing and blade lifted in their direction.

“Snufkin,” Moomin felt a paw on his shoulder. His mother was beside him, gently pushing him back as she put herself between them.

“Snufkin, dear, put the knife down, please.” She said, gently and calmly.

His eyes softened ever so slightly, but he shook his head. Snufkin’s chest heaved and his hands trembled, but the blade was steady in his grasp. “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave.”

“I know you’re frightened and confused, but I promise you, we’re safe.” Moominmamma took a small step forward. “Your fever is dangerously high and it’s got you seeing things that aren’t there. We need to get it down.”

Snufkin grit his teeth. “I am _not_ confused. You can’t see the danger we’re all in, but I can.”

“Snufkin, we’re trying to help you.” She took another step forward. Snufkin’s tail poofed up and his grip on the dagger tightened.

“And I’m trying to protect you!” 

The two were locked in a stand-off, gazing into each other’s eyes, unwilling to back down. 

Moominmamma scanned Snufkin for any weakness, any break in his defense, and Snufkin stared back, reading her movements and preparing himself to react. Seconds felt like hours as the showdown dragged on, no one speaking, barely anyone breathing. 

Snufkin blinked first.

His eyes had been tempted to flick back to the bed and he finally gave, his surprise at whatever he saw causing his entire head to turn.

Moominmamma took the chance.

She swooped in with speed no one knew she possessed, grabbing both of Snufkin’s wrists and lifting them over his head. 

He barely reacted, hardly noticed he’d been bested. His eyes remained on the bed. He blinked rapidly. “Wait,”

Moominmamma kept a firm grasp on his wrists. He was still gripping his dagger tightly and the claws on his other paw were out. 

“She . . .” Snufkin continued. “S-she’s gone?”

That caught everyone’s attention.

Still cautious of the wild mumrik in her grasp, Moominmamma peaked over her shoulder at the bed. 

In the chaos, no one had noticed that Little My was no longer perched on the mattress, or in the room for that matter.

There was a piercing scream from the first floor.

“Little My!” Moominmamma gasped, releasing Snufkin, who wasted no time in throwing the door open and sprinting down the stairs. 

\-----

It wasn’t real. Just a hallucination brought on by the fever.

That’s what Little My thought and was her justification for sneaking out of the room during Snukin’s panic. The fever was cooking his brain. She needed to get some ice to cool him down. 

That’s what she intended to do and what lead her to the dark kitchen. 

Now, as a black vine wrapped around her ankles and dragged her towards an ominous shadow, she was starting to think that maybe there was someone else here after all.

She bit at the branches. She kicked and flailed with all her might, but no matter what, the vines didn’t relent. The darkness chuckled at her attempts.

“You better let me go right now or you’ll be sorry!” she yelled.

The laughter only grew. 

“I-I mean it! I’ll bite your face off!”

Her attempts at intimidation were futile and fear welled up inside as she was dragged ever closer to the void. She clawed at the floor boards and grabbed everything she could to stop herself, tears welling in her eyes when it became apparent she was only delaying the inevitable. She was going to be swallowed by the shadow, never to be seen again. 

She cried out, hoping someone, anyone, would hear and save her. 

Her cry was answered.

In a flash, Snufkin soared in, slashing and stabbing at the vines with everything he had. The shadow wretched in pain, releasing the girl and withdrawing the branches to the darkness. Snufkin quickly scooped up Little My and held her close. He pointed his dagger at the shadowy figure and growled.

“You won’t take her! I won’t let you hurt anyone else!”

The Moomin family piled into the kitchen and gasped at the sight. The shadow hunched over, panting in pain, and from the darkness a pair of maroon eyes faded into view. They narrowed and glared at the mumrik and mymble huddled together. 

Snufkin gulped, hugging Little My tighter. She could hear his heart pounding in his chest, her own hammering away like a woodpecker. Despite his fear, he continued pointing the blade at the shadow as though daring it to try to take her again.

Thankfully, the shadow did not challenge him, but a low chuckle rumbled through the house as it receded into nothingness. 

_“This isn’t over, boy.”_

Leaving the ominous echo in its wake, the shadow slipped into the cracks of the wall.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and the kitchen’s clock ticked away the uneasy seconds as everyone processed what had just happened. 

Moomin swallowed. “Th-that, that was ‘him’, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Snufkin whispered, looking up at them. “This is why I didn’t want you to leave the room.” The dagger finally slipped from his grasp as he took Little My’s face in both paws. She looked up at him, tears running down her face, no longer wanting or caring to keep up her fearless façade.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he whispered. “I told everyone to stay in the room. This is exactly what I was trying to prevent!”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled. “I was just getting some ice to bring your temperature down.”

“Oh, Little My . . .” 

“But you saved me!” She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “Thank you!”

He clenched his eyes shut, lip quivering as he shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I was too late.”

“Too late?” Her eyes widened. “What do you mean? You stopped that thing from dragging me away!”

He re-opened his eyes, tears threatening to stain his own cheeks as he swallowed. “You’ve been marked.”

The adrenaline gone, Snufkin’s eyes rolled back and he slumped against the pantry.

“Snufkin!”

Moominmamma was at his side in an instant, patting his cheek while Little My grabbed his sleep shirt and tried to shake him awake. His eyes fluttered as he looked at her. “Little My,” he mumbled. “Don’t leave my side, no matter what. If you do . . . he’ll take you.”

Little My sucked in a breath. She didn’t know exactly know what he meant, but she understood the implications. 

He lazily rolled his head to the other side to face the Moomin family. “We need to go back to the room. Don’t leave until morning. Don’t look at shadows for too long, and if you feel a chill, close your eyes tight and don’t open them until it’s gone.”

They nodded stiffly. 

Snufkin sighed as he eyes started to close. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I never meant to bring this upon you all.” His head dipped forward as his body started to go limp. 

Moominmamma cradled both Snufkin and Little My in her arms. His chilling warning that she was not to leave his side echoed in her mind. It had been a close call. Far too close, and she was not keen on letting that happen again. 

Still, their own worries had been just as valid. Snufkin’s skin felt way too hot, and if they didn’t address it, there could very well be another close call this night. “Well, we’re already in the kitchen.” She said. “Moominpappa, get that bowl of cold water, and we’ll all go back to the room until morning.”

They hastily grabbed the supplies, weary of the shadows and eager to not spend another second more than necessary there. Soon they had the basin filled, wash clothes collected, and a pitcher of water to keep the sick mumrik hydrated. They huddled together as they retreated to the safety of the guestroom, Moomin stopping briefly as he spotted Snufkin’s dagger on the floor. 

He picked it up, clutching it tightly as a shiver ran through him. 

There was not a speck of blood or . . . whatever that creature was made of on the blade. The vines had turned to smoke under Snufkin’s attack and if he hadn’t known better he would’ve sworn they weren’t real at all, but the evidence of My’s struggle and the red marks on her ankles were proof enough of that.

Still, if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes – 

He shuddered again, feeling an almost irresistible urge to look over his shoulder. He gasped, ducking his head as he rushed to catch up to his parents, unable to shake the feeling of a pair of eyes burning into his back.

\-----

Moomin sighed, lowering the blade as he watched his mother ascend the stairs, a tray with an ice pack and medicated tea in her paws. She stopped at the door to look at her son. “Why don’t you get some sleep, my dear? It’s been a long night for all of us.”

Moomin hummed and stood up. He really didn’t want to but he knew she was right. There was nothing to be done now and they’d need their rest if that monster was to return tonight. 

“Okay, Mamma.” With dagger still in paw, Moomin retreated to his room and Mamma returned to the task at hand.

It seemed that as she was preparing the medicine, Snufkin and Little My had slipped into a restful sleep at last. She sighed, happy that their nightmares had ebbed off for the time being, but now conflicted. She hated to wake Snufkin when he was finally getting some much-needed rest, but he needed to take the medicine. Oh well, best to get it over with. The sooner she woke him the sooner he could get back to sleep, and the tea had a slight sedative effect to it which would help him doze off.

She gently shook his shoulder, earning a soft moan from the boy. It took a few more minutes of rousing but his eyes finally fluttered open. 

She smiled. “Good morning, Snufkin. I have some medicine for you.” 

“Moominmamma . . .” he moaned.

“Hush, my dear. Let me help you sit up.” She slipped a paw behind his head and propped him up on the pillows. She lifted the mug to his lips and he drank eagerly, the sweet thick tea soothing his throat. He finished it quickly and she set the mug back down on the bedside table. 

“Moominmamma,” he muttered again.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, honey.” She helped him lay back down and tucked him in. She nuzzled his temple and brushed his bangs back, placing the ice pack on his head. “There we are. This will bring your fever down.”

“I’m sorry.” 

She paused, watching as tears started to pool in his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry.”


	5. Escape the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay! For the new year I'm going to focus on getting a chapter out each month. Really want to focus on my writing this year.

Chapter Five: Escape the Night

Little My groaned as she was roused from her sleep. She swatted at the hand shaking her shoulder, but it didn’t relent. “Go away.” She growled groggily.

“C’mon, Little My. We need to get going.”

That piqued her curiosity enough to get her to open her eyes. Snufkin was standing over her, fully dressed with his backpack on, despite his pale complexion and sweat soaked brow. “What are you talking about?” she muttered. “You’re still sick and we don’t have anywhere to be anyway.” She tried to roll over and go back to sleep, only to be shaken again. 

“We can’t stay here. The sun will start setting soon and we need to be as far away as possible before night falls.” 

She jolted, eyes flying open as the events of last night came rushing back to her. Snufkin stopped shaking when he felt her stiffen and curl in on herself. He kept his paw on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “And no, it wasn’t a dream. A nightmare to be sure, but not a dream.”

Little My reached for the cuff of her trousers with a trembling hand. She lifted it, recoiling at the red mark on her ankles.

“We need to go before Moominmamma checks on us again.” Snufkin said.

“Go where?” she whispered. “And why?”

“Because it’s not safe here.”

Little My was on her feet in an instant, glaring at him. “Oh, like we’ll be safer out in the w-mmph!”

“Shhh!” Snufkin hissed, covering her mouth with his palm. “It’s not _our_ safety I’m worried about!” She stopped pawing at the hand over her mouth as he glanced to the door. “It’s bad enough that you’ve been marked. I can’t put anyone else in danger.”

He removed his paw as she settled down and moved to the window, opening it. “Moominmamma thinks we’re both asleep so she won’t be back for another hour. This’ll give us time to put plenty of distance between us and the house before they noticed we’re missing.”

“But your fever . . .”

“It broke.” He said, returning to the bedside. “The medicine and ice worked. You can check for yourself.” He pushed his bangs back, gesturing for her to feel his forehead. She did and admittedly his skin was pleasantly cool. Still, something seemed off.

“Let’s go then.” He stood back up. “Do you want to ride in my backpack or on my shoulders?”

“You didn’t really explain what it meant.”

Snufkin arched a brow.

“Being marked, I mean.” She clarified. “I know it’s bad, but . . . what does it _mean_?” 

“I’ll explain everything I know, but we need to move.” He slipped his pack off and opened it, motioning for her to get inside. She stood up but didn’t make a move towards it. 

“But where are we going? What are we going to do?”

“We’re gonna fix this. As long as we’re together, we’ll be okay. I promise.”

She looked up at him, brows knitted and stomach rolling like a ship in a stormy sea, but something about his warm but determined eyes loosened her frown. She was still uneasy but found it in herself to give a half smile as she crawled into the back pack. Once she was settled, he closed the flap securely and carefully slipped it back on, walking to the window.

Snufkin leaned over the window sill, scanning for movement and listening for voices. Once he determined the coast was clear, he climbed through, using his claws to descend the wall. He crouched once he reached the ground, taking one last glance to make sure no one was around before sprinting for the nearest tree line. He bounded over the bridge, frowning as he took a glance at the remains of his camp site. The storm had not been kind to his tent, but there was nothing to do for it now. Not having a shelter at night would be unpleasant, but he’d survived with less. 

\-----

It was another hour before Snufkin finally had to stop to catch his breath. No sooner had he bent over and rested his paws on his knees did he feel his back pack flail. He straightened up, wiping his brow as he slid his pack off and opened it. Little My winced as she crawled out, rubbing her back tenderly. “You couldn’t have packed a blanket or something?”

“Sorry, I was limited to what was already in my pack.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t go around gathering supplies without raising suspicions.”

“Yeah well, they probably noticed we’re gone by now.” She stretched, groaning as her sore muscles protested the movement. “Where are we?”

“We’ve been going West for the last hour. We’ll be entering the Forest of Witches soon.”

Little My’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re going to see the Witch?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning on it. I wanted to go this way because it would be nearly impossible for anyone to track us, but she’ll probably have some supplies that can help us on our journey.”

“Where exactly is this journey taking us anyway?”

“There’s a town several weeks to the South. There’s people there that can help us.”

“Great. And what are we going to do about food? I noticed you didn’t have any of that in your bag and you can’t exactly go fishing without your rod.”

“I’m proficient at foraging. That aside, I still have . . .” he paused. “Oh no.” he rummaged through his bag. “Oh no . . .”

“What is it?”

“My dagger. I . . . must’ve dropped it on the kitchen floor last night.” He brushed his paw through his hair. “This isn’t good.”

“You still have your pocket knife, though, right?”

“I do, but . . . I had that dagger enchanted by a shaman years ago. That’s why I was able to attack him.”

Little My’s eyes grew large and the color drained from her face. 

“We’ll still be okay!” Snufkin added quickly. “As long as we stick together he can’t hurt us, but I would’ve like to have that dagger in case things got,” he stopped himself and shook his head. “We’re definitely going to see the Witch now. Maybe she can enchant my knife.”

Snufkin stood up straight and took a breath as he continued walking. Little My quickly caught up with him, sticking closer than she normally would’ve. She took in their surroundings as they walked. As Snufkin said, the forest was much thicker here than normal. The sky had darkened to a deep blue with tiny streaks of setting sunlight fading into it. She shivered. Night was coming much faster than she would’ve liked. 

They continued walking in silence for several minutes. The birds had long since stopped singing and the occasional hoot of an owl told them the night was starting to awaken. They had no lantern, so as the light dimmed, Little My got closer to Snufkin. He glanced down at her, watching as her hands fussed with her purple bow. She hunched in on herself and flinched at every sound from the woods.  
If he hadn’t known her for years he would’ve never believed this was the same girl that fearlessly stood up to creatures four times her size.

He reached out a paw and gently laid it on her head. She stiffened at first but leaned into it. He felt her relax beside him and he sighed, unease nibbling at him as they continued, but when the distant howl of a wolf cried out into the night, she flung herself into his side and clutched his smock as though her very life depended on not losing her grip. 

His heart twisted and he took her into his arms before he even realized it. Feeling her shivering form against his chest made his stomach turn. “I’m sorry,” he said, tucking her head under his chin. “I never meant to drag you into this.” 

“He’s coming for us again tonight, isn’t he?” her mumbled voice came up from his chest.

“I’m afraid so,” he sighed. He looked up, watching the final rays of the sun slip beyond the horizon. There was no way of knowing exactly when he’d arrive, but for the moment his night eyes didn’t detect anything unsettling or unnatural in the woods. They’d be safe, for a little while at least. 

“So, what does it mean to be marked?” Little My asked as she lifted her head. “I’ve heard that saying before. Predators marking their prey so they can track them down no matter what.” She paused, and Snufkin felt her grip on his clothes tighten. “Is that what’s going to happen to me? Am I being hunted?”

He looked down at her, taking a breath and closing his eyes before answering. “Yes.” The bluntness of his delivery sent a shiver down her spine. “By being marked you’ve become his target.”

“But why!?” She exclaimed as she tugged on his scarf, causing him to grunt. “I never did anything to him! I don’t even know who he is!”

He gently pried his scarf from her grasp. “It could’ve been anyone that night. You, Moomin, Moominmamma or Pappa. It didn’t matter who. Just anyone who would stare into the shadows too long, or look directly into his eyes or get too far away from me.”

“But why did he need to mark one of us?”

Snufkin slowly withdrew his arms from around her and placed his paws on her shoulders. “I’m his real target. He wants to kill me more than anything, but he can’t hurt me directly. The most he can do is rattle my cage with hallucinations and nightmares, which does whenever he gets the chance.” 

“So . . . the way he hurts you . . . is through me.” Little My shuddered and lowered her head. “So . . that means he has to . . .”

“It won’t happen.” Snufkin squeezed her shoulders. “I won’t let anything else happen to you. He may have marked you, but he can’t actually do anything to you as long as you’re by my side.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Suddenly, Little My felt him tense and he fell silent. She swallowed and slowly lifted her head to look at him when his hand moved to the back of her head and pressed her face to his chest. “Because, if he could, he would’ve done it by now.” He finally said, but something dripped from his voice that she couldn’t quite place, something that made her stomach turn uneasily. No sooner had she felt it did she feel something else. It was almost as though an icy hand ran across her back and she sensed an eerie stare piercing her shoulders.

Snufkin stood up, placing his paw on Little My’s back and ushering her forward. “C’mon, keep moving.”

He moved behind her, placing himself between her and the source of the uneasy feeling. He ushered her along and she wanted to move, wanted to let him whisk her from whatever was lurking in the brush, but her feet refused to cooperate. As though her shoes were made of lead, she struggled to lift them and she felt an irresistible urge to look over her shoulder.

_Don’t look!_ her mind screamed, but it was too late, and she would’ve screamed too had her voice not gotten caught in her throat. 

Snufkin picked her up and bolted. 

A chuckle filled the air as they raced through the woods. 

It may have been her mind playing tricks on her, but Little My was quite certain that the darkness from beyond the trees was forming into smoky vines, writhing in the moonlight and reaching out from them. A pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the shadows and glared at them. 

Snufkin didn’t stop for a moment, didn’t slow, leaping and dodging effortlessly through every obstacle in their path, but Little My couldn’t help but notice that no matter how fast he was running he wasn’t putting any distance between themselves at that pair of eyes, and the scream that had been stuck in her throat finally found its way out.

\------

Moomin was honestly surprised as his eyes blinked open to a bedroom bathed in orange from the setting sun. He hadn’t meant to sleep the entire day away, but he supposed that was to be expected from being up nearly all night. What caught him off guard was how soundly he’d slept. His rest was completely dreamless and given the horrific sight the night before, he was certain he was in for at least a nightmare or two, unless that _was_ the nightmare and everything was fine.

It was a nice thought, but one quickly dashed when he sat up and caught the glimmer of the sun off the dagger’s blade on his desk. 

Snufkin’s dagger.

He sighed. 

With nightfall just around the corner they were surely in for another unwelcome encounter with that, whatever it was. Hopefully Snufkin would at least be feeling a little bit better.

He threw the blanket off of himself and no sooner had be put his feet to the floor did he hear a yell. 

“Moominpappa! Moomin! Come quickly!”

His heart was in his throat. That yell was coming from the guest room, where Snufkin and Little My were currently resting. 

_ ‘Oh no!’ _

He rushed down, trying to stow away any thoughts of what could’ve become of his friends. Whatever he was expecting to find, it was not his mother standing in an otherwise empty room. He looked around, quickly noting that Snufkin’s clothes and pack were missing, along with his friends. The open window and familiar claw marks on the frame told them everything they needed to know. 

“How long have they been gone?” Moomin asked.

“I couldn’t have been long. I just checked on them an hour ago. They were both asleep.” Moominmamma answered, just in time for her husband to enter.

“What is going on here?”

“Little My and Snufkin ran away!” Moomin exclaimed.

“What? Why on earth would they leave in their condition? Don’t they realize how dangerous that is?”

“I think they do . . .” Moomin said solemnly, the implication quickly dawning on his parents. 

“ We must find them quickly!” Mamma said.

Pappa nodded in agreement. “I’ll see the inspector at once and get a search party going!”

The Moomins quickly filed out of the room; Mamma to gather supplies and the first aid kit, Pappa to alert the Inspector, and Moomin to his room to pack up and get ready for the search. Fortunately, he had put off unpacking from his early camping excursion with Snufkin, so he was more or less ready to go. Just a quick glance over his provisions and supplies and he slung his pack over his shoulders. He was almost out the door when the glint of Snufkin’s dagger stopped him.  
He approached it slowly, feeling himself calm down as he got closer. Before he knew it, his paw was gripping the hilt tightly. Strange. It felt heavier than it did that morning. He watched, eyes widening, as his paw slowly lifted the dagger and pointed it towards the west. 

He . . . was not telling his arm to do that.

Yet, it remained stretched out, blade honed in on the glowing horizon where the sun was setting. He could feel something pulling his arm in that direction. He shook his head, bringing the dagger close and blinking at his reflection in the blade before narrowing his eyes. This dagger belonged to Snufkin and right now he was who knows where without it. Moomin quickly grabbed a sash and tied it around his waist, tucking the dagger into it before heading out downstairs to join his parents.

\-----

_ ‘It’s just a dream! It’s just a dream! I’ll wake up any second back at Moominhouse! This isn’t real! It’s just a dream!’ _

Little My clutched Snufkin’s smock tightly, pressing herself as far into his chest as she could, willing herself to wake up. But with each frantic heartbeat that passed, the air around them grew colder, and it was getting harder to deny the very real situation they were in. 

Snufkin continued to run, hugging her tightly as he dodged branches and weaved through the bushes, but his energy was quickly depleting. His head was growing fuzzy, his bangs sticking to his sweaty brow, and it was getting harder to catch his breath. 

By the time he saw the exposed tree root it was already too late. 

Snufkin had tripped more times than he cared to admit in his life, but never before had he gotten such an impressive amount of air and distance. Trying to jump it at the last second at the speed he was going played no small part in that, and the two flew a good meter before tumbling to the ground.

Little My flew from his arms, rolling and skidding a distance before coming to a stop. She sat up, head spinning dizzily and body aching from the spill, and muttered a curse as she rubbed her head. The world steadied for her, just in time for her to watch a pair of inky vines lash out towards her. She froze, choking on a gasp when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and pull her out of the way. 

Holding Little My tightly, Snufkin backed up until he hit a tree, sliding down the trunk as his energy dwindled. The two sat breathing heavily as an ominous shadow encompassed the trees surrounding them. 

An amusing chuckle came from every direction.

“Snufkin,” Little My whispered. “What are we going to do?”

“Stay together.” he replied, still trying to catch his breath. “We’ll be okay if we stay together.”

The shadows molded themselves in a figure. 

Every muscle in Little My’s body was telling her to run. Snufkin’s firm grip kept her from doing so. 

“Don’t leave my side.” he said. “No matter what.”

_ ‘What’s the matter, children?’_ The figure mused, stepping forward. _‘Are you lost?’_

“You better stay away from us! Or Snufkin will slice you up like he did last night!” Little My yelled, forcing an intimidating growl in her voice.

The shadows stopped and became rigid. A twinge of relief sparked in the two as it appeared the bluff had worked, but it was quickly extinguished as a soft laugh emerged from their pursuer. 

_ ‘That would be a considerable threat, if you still had your dagger.’ _

Snufkin felt his blood turn cold. “H-how did you know?”

_ ‘Oh what does it matter, anyway? I can’t hurt either one of you as long as you stay together, right?’ _ Vines writhed out from around them. _ ‘That’s what you keep saying at least. But that expression on your face tells me you’re not so sure about that.’ _

The vines crept in. Snufkin quickly stood up, pushing Little My behind him and shielding her from their approach. 

_ ‘Oh? You’re willing to bet your life on that? I was really hoping you would.’ _

Scarlet red eyes flashed from the silhouette’s head. Snufkin winced at that, both from the brightness and the panic jolting through him. He stood his ground regardless, eyes narrowed even as his breath came in short and quick bursts.

The two stared each other down. Snufkin hissed through his teeth as he tried to get his breathing under control. His legs trembled and his bristled tail twitched, but he stood his ground, refusing to back down even as the shadowy figure slowly inched forward.

Or at least he appeared to be moving. It was hard to tell with how still the entity had become, the only signs of movement were from the smoky wisps of shadow that surrounded him. The vines continued to thrash around him, dancing in the corners of his vision, attempting to pull his attention from the figure before him. 

He narrowed his eyes and refused to look away. He felt Little My trembling behind him and he curled his tail around her. He could feel her resisting the urge to run. He couldn’t let her. If she did, they’d both be done for.

Neither mumrik or mymble could ever be sure how much time passed, but they held that position for what felt like hours. Even though he was no longer running, Snufkin’s energy continued to drain, the ground beginning to tilt under his feet as his vision started to blur. He swallowed, clenching his fists and fighting against the impending loss of consciousness. He didn’t know what would happen if he fainted and a part of him was afraid he’d never wake up again to find out.

_ ‘You don’t look so good, my boy. You’re not running a fever, are you?’ _

Little My stiffened behind him.

“I’m okay,” he said, more to himself than to her. 

_ ‘You look as if you’re about to pass out. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You can’t protect her if you’re unconscious, now can you?’ _

“Snufkin?!” Little My gasped.

“I’m okay!” he hissed.

_ ‘I’ve seen this before. The world’s spinning and your vision’s getting blurry, isn’t it? Any second now you’ll be out like a light.’ _

Snufkin swayed, catching himself and shaking his head. The voice chuckled again. 

He tensed his muscles, willing his body to fight and stay awake. It wasn’t until his back smacked against the tree that he realized he was losing his balance again. He slid down the trunk, Little My scrambling to get out of the way as he crumpled into what could barely be considered a sitting position. She sucked in a breath at seeing how his flushed cheeks clashed against his pale face. She touched his forehead before he could lift a hand to stop her.

“You liar!” she hissed. “You said your fever broke!”

Snufkin opened his mouth to respond, but only managed a shaky sigh. He couldn’t fight it. His strength was only seconds away from giving out. He looked over to his friend, gut wrenching at how terrified she was. He was going to pass out and, with him no longer able to protect her, they were both going to die here, alone, miles from home in the dark forest.

He took a breath, saying the only thing he could think to. “I’m sorry . . . .”

With that, his eyes rolled up and he slumped over with a sickening thud.

“Snufkin! No!” Little My yelled as she grabbed his shoulder, desperately trying to shake him awake. She winced as the soft chuckling boomed into an ominous cackle. She whipped around, recoiling as the figure slowly began to close in.

_ ‘Poor little girl. He’s not a very good friend, is he? He promised he’d protect you, but what did he do? Dragged you into the woods to die alone. Slipping into blissful unconsciousness while you suffer.’ _

She turned around, grabbing the font of Snufkin’s smock. “C’mon! Wake up! He’s coming!”

_ ‘But don’t despair too much, I’ll make sure he pays his dues. I’ll wait for him to come to before I end him.’ _

The sadistic cadence of the shadow’s voice had a playful tone to it, one that faded out towards the end of that last sentence. Little My took no notice to it, as she was currently patting Snufkin’s cheek and begging him to open his eyes. The growl that followed did get her attention as she looked back up, heart plunging into her belly and what she saw.

The shadow slowly swelled in size, a crimson hue melding in with the pitch black smoke as it trembled. The eyes narrowed as they brimmed with unbridled wrath.

_ ‘I’ll make sure he sees what he’s done to you and that his final moments are in pure agony. I’ll make him pay for what he’s done!’ _ The shadow screeched, venom and hatred dripping from every word.

Little My wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to wake up back in Moominhouse, but all she could do is freeze as vines lashed out from the figure and wrapped around her ankles and waist. She winced at the pain, then gasp in horror as they started slowly dragging her in. 

_ ‘Now, let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?’ _

“N-no! Snufkin! Please!” she clutched his smock tightly as she was pulled away, her fingers eventually losing their grip and desperately digging into the grass and dirt. 

“Snufkin! Help me!” 

She kicked and flailed, pleading that he would open his eyes and come to her aide as he had last night. 

He didn’t even stir.

Tears welled in her eyes. There was no one around to save her this time. She was going to die. A choking sob swelled up inside her and in a last desperate plea, she screamed out into the night.

“Someone! Anyone! Help!”

Her vision had already been blurry from the tears, but it went out completely when a bright light washed over her. She heard an infernal screech from behind her and the vines withdrew. A swift, frigid wind rushed over her, leaving her shivering, but soon the warm summer night air enveloped her. 

She heard footsteps rushing towards her, but she kept her eyes shut tightly. For the moment, it seemed like she was still alive, if her thrashing heart was an indication, and as long as she didn’t open her eyes and find herself in Hell, she could believe that.

“Little My! Are you okay?!”

Her eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. Still, it took several seconds of blinking to confirm, but as soon as her vision finally cleared enough to see her savior, it started blurring with tears again.

“Alicia!” she cried, throwing her arms around the other girl’s neck. 

The young witch set her lantern down, embracing the frightened mymble. “It’s all right. The wicked spirit is gone.” she said, scanning the forest. “I sensed something evil in the woods tonight, but I never imagined something like that would be here.” She rubbed My’s back, patiently waiting for her breathing to return to normal. “We need to get back to my hut. This light will protect us, but we won’t truly be safe until we’re there.”

“Wait! We can’t leave Snufkin!”

“Snufkin?” Alicia arched a brow, her eyes following where Little My was pointing.

She gasped as she rushed over to the unconscious boy. “Oh my goodness! What happened to him?”

“He passed out.” Little My replied, rushing over to join them. Though still badly shaken, she mustered the grit to cross her arms and glare at the mumrik, now that the immediate peril was gone. “That idiot told me his fever broke, and he’s been running around the forest all night.”

Alicia brushed back his bangs, biting her lip when she felt his burning forehead. “This is bad, but I have potions and medicine that can cure him.”

“Great, but, how do we get him to your house? No offense but I don’t think you’re strong enough to carry him.”

She glanced back, smiling. “Don’t worry. Even you can carry him.”

Little My tilted her head, too confused to speak, but lifted her brows when Alicia grasped her pendant in both hands. She brought her hands to her face and began chanting quietly. Little My strained, trying to make out what she was saying, but backed up when a light blue glow enveloped Alicia’s hands. Slowly, the young witch opened her hands and began waving them over Snufkin. The blue light flowed from her palms and enveloped the mumrik, gradually growing in intensity until she couldn’t even make out Snufkin’s form.

“Uh . . . Alicia . . . what are you -?” 

Little My was cut off when the light that had cocooned Snufkin burst like a soap bubble, leaving only tiny sparkles that quickly dissipated into the air. She blinked. Snufkin didn’t look any different. He was still pale and unconscious. 

“I don’t think your spell worked.”

“Oh, I’m sure it did.” Alicia replied, slipping her arms behind Snufkin’s neck and knees. Without as much as a grunt of effort, she picked him up from the ground, backpack and all, and nodded. “Yes, definitely worked.”

“Wha-what did you do?”

“It’s a feather weight spell. He’ll weigh practically nothing for an hour, so we can easily carry him home.” She smiled. “Told ya even you could carry him.”

Little My just blinked, saying nothing.

“You mind grabbing my basket and lantern? My hands are kind of full.”

\-----

“Snufkin! Little My!”

Moomin put a paw to his ear, straining to hear any response. Instead, he heard only the call of his friends’ names echoed throughout the valley from the other members of their search party. Nearly the entire valley joined in upon hearing of the two missing children. The Inspector wasted no time rallying everyone together, instructing everyone to fan out from the house and stick with a partner, as they weren’t keen on losing anyone else that night.

Speaking of which, his search party partner had been very quiet for the past several minutes.

“Sniff, c’mon!” he turned around, the light from his lantern washing over the anxious fuzzy, who was several meters behind. “We’re never gonna find them at this rate!”

“I don’t like this, Moomin. I think we’re getting lost!” Sniff mumbled. “Maybe we should look somewhere else.”

“We don’t know which direction they went, Sniff. We need to cover as much ground as possible.”

Sniff gulped, but otherwise didn’t reply. The sound of footsteps and rattling of a lantern in a nervous paw were good enough for Moomin though, so he pressed on, searching for footsteps or any sign of disturbance in the brush.

He’d missed dinner that night, but the dread pooling in his belly was heavy enough, and it only grew heavier as the darkness descended. He looked up and squinted at the moonlight peeking through the canopy. The full moon above was giving him mixed feelings. The extra light was appreciated, but it was an omen of the supernatural coming out to play. He shuddered. He’d had far enough of that sort of thing for quite a while.

He shook his head, forcing it to focus back on the search. 

He didn’t know what had possessed his friends to leave when they were in such a state, but he had a few ideas, and didn’t like a single one. He recoiled as his mind brought forth the image of Little My, struggling in the grasp of that monster’s vines. He could almost see her in front of him, clawing at the floor, reaching out to him for help.

He walked a little faster.

He could see Snufkin holding Little My. The two of them were backed up against a wall, the mumrik holding his dagger out to keep the monster back. 

Moomin swallowed as he felt the dagger at his hip, instead of with its rightful owner. 

His footsteps got even faster.

Now he could see them again, hugging each other tightly as the dark shadow descended upon them, and Snufkin had no weapon to defend them with.

Moomin started running.

He had to find them before that ghoul did. He thought he heard someone calling his name, but he paid it no mind as he tore through the forest. Branches whipped at his face and he nearly tripped a few times. He was running so fast the lantern barely had time to illuminate his path for him to see before he nearly crashed into various bushes and tree roots. 

He didn’t slow. He couldn’t. His mind raced faster and so did his feet until he was finally out of breath. He reached out for a nearby tree and nearly sunk to his knees as he gasped for air. 

“Sniff, let’s rest for a second.” He gasped. There was no reply. “Sniff?” He turned around. No one was there. Not even a far glow from his companion’s lantern. With a growing sense of dread, he realized that he couldn’t hear the calls from the search party either. “Great.” He sighed. 

He sunk down to the grass, wishing he’d brought some water and hoping Sniff wouldn’t run off to tell his parents he was lost too. He wanted everyone to be focused on finding Snufkin and Little My. He would be fine.

He didn’t notice the pair of red eyes staring at him from behind the trees.

\-----

When they arrived at the hut, Little My was expecting to see the Witch Clarissa at the fire place, stirring her cauldron as usual. She’d been ready for a snide comment from the elder witch, but was surprised to see that the roaring fire place was notably missing said cauldron and witch all together.

Before she could ask, Alicia was already half way up the stairs with Snufkin in her arms. She quickly set the lantern and basket of herbs on the table and ran up after them, following Alicia as she entered a room and laid Snufkin down on a bed. She removed the boy’s boots and hat before drawing a blanket over him. Little My crawled onto the bed, watching the other girl run off again, rushing down stairs to rummage about the kitchen.

Little My kicked her own boots off and made herself comfortable, looking about the room and listening to Snufkin’s even breaths. 

The adrenaline was wearing off, and an uneasy realization descended upon her, about how close it had been, and if Alicia hadn’t chanced up on them when she did . . . 

It suddenly got very cold.

Little My hugged herself tightly. She looked over at Snufkin. She watched the beaded sweat trickle down his face as his flushed cheeks nearly glowed against his pale skin. He looked as bad as he did last night, if not worse. 

Her throat tightened and she jumped slightly at the sound of pounding footsteps rushing up the stairs. 

Alicia returned with a tray of herbs and various supplies and placed it on the night stand. She took and uncorked a vial of deep blue potion then gently lifted Snufkin’s head, bringing it to his lips and carefully pouring it in his mouth at a steady pace. She paused several times between small doses, allowing his body’s natural reflex to swallow the medicine until it was gone. 

“There. That will bring his fever down, but I’ll need to make some more.” She said, laying his head down and brushing his bangs back. She took a cloth from the tray and gently bathed his face in cool water, lightly patting his flushed hot skin. His brow furrowed and he groaned softly. “Oh, is he waking up?” Alicia asked. “Snufkin, can you hear me?”

“Moomin . . .” Snufkin moaned.

“Huh?” Alicia said. “I’m not Moomin. I’m Alicia.”

“Moomin, no . . .” Snufkin groaned again, gritting his teeth as he clenched his still closed eyes. “Run . . .”

“He’s having a nightmare.” Little My said. “Don’t bother trying to wake him up. We couldn’t wake him up last night either, and then after that . . .” she shuddered. “Hey, are you sure this place is safe against evil spirits?”

“Absolutely. My grandma put the wards up herself. There’s no way that ghost is getting in here.” Alicia said. “As for anyone outside . . . well I just hope there’s no one wandering the forest tonight.”

“Moomin . . .” Snufkin stirred restlessly, face contorting into unease.


End file.
